Robo-Not-So-Real-Baby

I am not ready to be a grandmother and I spend an awful lot of time reminding my children of that fact. I use whatever means land in my path to make the point that sexual responsibility is a real thing with real consequences and best left to consenting adults.

Think I'm kidding? Last week KJ was taking a prescription for a tummy virus. She opened the bottle and said “I think I missed one.” to which I, without missing a beat, yelled “PREGNANT!” KJ quietly explained to me that A) she's not that kind of girl and 2) prescription antacids do not have anything to do with pregnancy. “No”, I said “but if that had be your birth-control you would be PREGNANT!” *insert visual of teenager shaking head and rolling eyes*

It should be fairly clear that when Lula announced that she was bringing home Robo-Baby for the weekend I was ecstatic! I know that teenagers have an unrealistic view of infant rearing and I have heard some really great Robo-Baby horror stories. I was looking forward to the up all night screaming computer infant that would leave my 16 year old weary, frustrated and slightly sleep deprived. I wanted to see her pull her hair out for 48 hours and beg for it to stop.

This is the reality she got...

Robo-Baby turned on at 3pm, ate and slept until the evening. He let Lula eat her dinner hot and was only awake for 45 minutes between 7 and 10pm. He did not spit-up on my daughter's shoulder during burping. The diapers did not smell. Yellow baby poo did not gush from onsie leg wholes or up and out through the neck whole. Robo-Baby went to sleep after 5 minutes of rocking and stayed that way even when the chair creaked and the phone rang. Robo-Baby woke up once through the night for a 20 minute feeding and went promptly back to sleep until a reasonable hour. He let my daughter eat breakfast, get dressed, have a hot cup of coffee and enjoy a 25 minute car ride without fussing, crying, soiling himself or crying for no apparent reason. Night two mirrored night one and Sunday morning found my very lovely daughter not nearly as dishevelled as I was rooting for.

Apart from a few sparse moments of new Robo-Mother anxiety that had Lula doing the rock, bounce – what's wrong with you dance the weekend did not pose much reality... save for one moment...

During a crying episode KJ rather loudly complained “I didn't sign up for the stupid Baby why do I have to listen to it's crying and crap?”

So while the experience of Robo-Baby may have been under-realistic for the caregiver I am very grateful that the message was not lost on everyone.

Hope Gratitude and Smiles are meant to be shared,

Michelle

The Motherhood Glories of Winter

Winter has arrived and I am ecstatic! Not because I love snow and ice, bone chilling winds or plummeting down a mountain side on highly engineered planks and a prayer, none of those things thrill me. I prefer my winter from the fireplace side of the window. Michael often teases that when we retire we will be a couple for 6 months of glorious weather then meet again after the spring thaw. He will traverse the landscape on his snowmobile to ice fishing destinations no bombardier could access. I, will curl up with tea and my thoughts, penning stories for our grandchildren and memories of toasty July evenings. That gives me winters to look forward to years into the future (I profess to not be nearly as old as my children would have you believe)

The future is a very long way off and there are many winters between my dreams and my fireside. None the less the final arrival of winter does bring me great joy. For the next 4 or so months (winter really is late this year) I carry immense power for the chilly weeks ahead. I am the keeper of the warm things.

From now until May I can remind my children to "take their mittens" and they have mittens; Canada Red Mittens, expensive designer mittens, mittens with monsters on them, fancy ski gloves, twittens (special mittens that allow for texting and tweeting). I have baskets of magic stretchy mittens, mittens in the car, my pockets, stashed in backpacks and purses, I even have a bin of mismatched mittens for emergencies!

Then there are hats. Hats that match mittens, coats, snowsuits and nothing at all. Hats with built in scarves, ear flaps, designer labels and nostalgic significance.

I also have snowpants, boots, hoods, scarves, turtlenecks, longjohns, extra coats, wind pants, mufflers, dickies, fleece vests, flannel shirts, balaclavas and earmuffs. I have been a Canadian all my life after all and a mother for long enough to know...

There is reward in little victories of 'right'!

If you have everything possible to keep your family warm, at their disposal and even hidden on their person, you are very well within your right to laugh at each and every child who walks through the front door with their arms hunched up the sleeves of their wide open jacket, with ears the colour of cream soda and snot running down their nose. You can snicker as they attempt to remove their running shoes with the laces iced together utilizing fingers too cold to do the job.

You can laugh and you can ask quietly, sincerely and compassionately "Where are your mittens?" On the inside you can give yourself a big old pat on the back of satisfaction, you can laugh hysterically at their coolness and they have no rebuttal, no position...for the next 4 months, on at least one topic, you will be right...and they KNOW IT!

Gratitude today that Mother Nature is a Mother too. :)

Gratitude, hope and smiles should never be kept to yourself!
Michelle

More in the Box Than We Bargained For

KJ brought home one of those projects the other day, you know, one of THOSE projects... All About Me. The only project with the power to paralyze me worse than a bridge project is the "All About Me Project"

An All About Me project means that I will be scavenging through the photo box for a kindergarten picture from 9 years ago. My powers of memory recall and personal trivia will be measured and tested;

• "What time was I born?"
• "How much did I weigh?"
• "What was my first word?"
• "What was the name of the grandson of the lady who lived four houses down that I sprayed with the hose?"

 I should probably confess right now, that I don't know this stuff. I am not the mother who can recall the thing you were eating when you lost your first tooth or what colour ribbons you wore in your hair on the first day of school. Heck, the other day I forgot how to print the number 9 my kids are doomed

If you are one of those super Moms you probably think very little of me right now. If you have ever had to ask one of your children to confirm their birthday or grade in school you will sympathize with the pain I felt when that first question went live on Sunday evening... "How much did I weigh when I was born?"

I tried to be the good Mom..."8lbs 4oz." I blurted out. Immediately I realized I was wrong, I could tell by the look on Michael's face. His expression resembling the look you might expect if grandma willed you the false teeth. The debate was on. I tried to rationalize KJ's birth weight by ordinating it among Lula and E-man's weights but I had those wrong too, so my strategy was flawed from the start. Eventually we all headed upstairs to "the BOX"

I have a box for each of my kids, each box containing hospital bracelets, footprints, cards, locks of hair, favourite dresses, hats that sort of thing. I went into motherhood knowing that detail is not my strong suit and knowing that I better have a strong back up system.

I opened the box, and I choked up a little, looking at my girl holding up the little sleeper that she came home from the hospital in, (she has bras bigger than it now.) I reached for the hospital card that listed her details...7lbs 11oz...."Ok, I loose." I conceded. Then I watched as KJ sifted through the rest of the box, giggling and snickering. All I could think, was how much things change, and how far she has come.

I was lost in reflection when KJ asked "One shoe, why is there only one shoe?"

I laughed, I had forgotten all about it. "Because your sister has the other one." KJ looked at me like grandma had willed her the false teeth.

I looked at her and I started with ....

...."when you were born we were broke, like really broke." (and we were, a string of layoffs and ill timed plant closures, a broken car and a house held together mostly with duct tape and bubble gum. We were living on love and fumes.)

"When you needed walking shoes, we could afford to steal the pair from your sister's baby box."

Still she was holding grandma's teeth, except now she was laughing.

"That's where you come from" I said. THAT is why I get frustrated when you kids complain that you don't have everything you want... there was a time when you only had 1 shoe.

She left (rolling her eyes, I'm sure)

Then I laughed harder. E-man's box doesn't have any shoes (yes, he wore them too!)

Gratitude that while we were busy concentrating on the things that weren't 'things' we came a long way too. Gratitude that life has unique ways of reminding you what is important.

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.

Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

Your Motorcycle is My Cat

For a very long time Michael has wanted a motorcycle. He's been researching and looking. We've had discussions about bringing a motorcycle into the house. He has promised to get all of the safety equipment and to take the courses and to always be responsible on and for his motorcycle. I have been nodding my head, playing devil's advocate and encouraging his research. Truthfully, I've been placating him much the same way you do with a child who wants a pet. Casually agreeing and faining interest are usually enough to be supportive of an idea long enough for husbands and children to move on to some other desire De jour.

Its a gamble, 9 times out of 10 an interest is passing...1 time out of 10 they call your bluff and bring the motorcycle home. 

I like to play that I have a hard time with the motorcycle. It would be remiss of me after all, to pass up an opportunity to be 'difficult.' Secretly, I am really quite thrilled for Mike. He is so excited about his new bike, just like a kid who got a new puppy. 

There is that pet thing again, the topic seems inescapable....I've suddenly had a vision of the future.

Lula has been going on about a cat. A kitten actually. The research of costs, accessories and 'kitten free to a good home' ads have begun. As too, have the promises to love, care and clean up after little 'Mortimer.' (they name them you know, before actual acquisition. It's a tactic, naming something makes it harder for Mom and Dad to say no.) I have begun nodding my head and encouraging the research. Except in this case I secretly am truly encouraging the research, I would love a cat too.

How can you resist?



The suggestion of bringing a cat into the house has incited an uproar from the family's contingent of dog lovers. KJ is taking the bargaining position, offering to forgo birthday and Christmas presents and opt out of back to school clothes, whatever it takes to increase our family by one dog.

E-man is our man on the fence but not without a plan. He is very cleverly siding with whomever seems to be in the best position of getting what they want at any given moment. Dog, cat, motorcycle doesn't matter, he's like the dark horse on survivor, playing to the good side of the strongest alliance. He's going to win either way. 

This all puts me somewhere in the future... riding on the back of a motorcycle, holding a small dog in a purse, while at home, a cat quietly fills his litter pan and sleeps on top of my desk, in the room I've just converted into an office because the last of the kids has left for University, leaving their pets in the capable hands of Mom and Dad. 



Can you resist this either?



It's inevitable! KJ wants a dog like Lula wants a cat. Lula wants a cat like Michael wanted a motorcycle. Michael brought a motorcycle home so we are going shopping for dog tags and litter pans.

Wait until they find out what I want!

Gratitude today is for the art of negotiation and compromise in the pursuit of family harmony.

 Are you in negotiations at home too? What was the last thing you got that you weren't sure you wanted?

This is my post that was lost when Blogger went down...I am SO grateful to have it back!

 

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.


Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

Teaching Kids to Vote

It is Election Day in Canada. Being privileged to live in a country that allows every person to have a voice demands you stand up and mark your 'X' (in Canada we still do it that way; pencil..ballot..'X'..into the box) Voting is how we express our gratitude for the privilege of living in a free country. If you question if this is true...ask a veteran their opinion.

We have conversations in our home about the duty of voting, we've taken the kids with us to the polling stations.  We are, afterall, raising the next generation of voters. There is importance in leading by example.

Fortunately, among many of the families we know this seems to be a common practice. It would appear that the future is in good hands. Good hands provided that this next generation understands the weight of their vote. How do you teach that their vote is their 'choice'?

You give them choices, you let them practice. You give them an array of options making sure they understand the possible outcome of each choice. There are plenty of opportunities to do this.

Tonight's example.... brought to you by E-man....

Here is our voter, contemplating the choices;

Homework or No Homework

He has two options

• come in... get the homework done and the rest of the week is his to enjoy out of doors and with his friends
• Ignore my suggestion and spend the rest of his week answering the door and telling his friends why he can't come out to play.

Polls are open for 45 seconds. (in fairness he had advance poll voting opportunities)

Evidently, we're doing an adequate job of teaching the ins an outs of democracy. While he may have marked his 'X' for the 'not so right' choice he has learned at least, that his vote also allows him the privilege of complaining about the outcome. Something he'll be doing a great deal of over the next 5 days.


Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.


Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

You Wait 364 Days

A big day in our house today. We've been counting down the sleeps. Today is E-man's Birthday!

Having a birthday gives a kid a thousand reasons to be grateful. He's joined me this morning and turned "Me" time into "We" time. It's really nice right now... later when he's completely exhausted from being up this early, maybe not so much. Anyway, he's helping me write and wants to make sure I get all of his gratefuls for today.

• Grateful my friends could all come for my party.
• Grateful for birthday presents.
• Grateful for grab bags.
• Grateful for Birthday cake.
• Grateful for a sleepover tonight.
• Grateful for a hockey game last night.
• Grateful for balloons.
• Grateful KJ is going to collect Rangers Autographs for me.
• Grateful Dad got the rink all ready for my party.

Clearly, turning 9 gives you a lot to be grateful for! Being the parent brings to mind your own set a gratefuls for the day.

• Grateful birthday parties only last a few hours.
• Grateful for party stores that offer a selection so awesome and so endless that you really don't need to make any other plans for the day apart from packing a lunch to enjoy in aisle 28.
• Grateful that kids have attention spans short enough to be impressed with low quality plastic do-nothings and powdered sugar in their loot-bags.
• Grateful that if you are a cake decorator your kids would rather get a cake from Dairy Queen like everyone else.
• Grateful that balloons come in 1LB packages...this way you never run out.
• Grateful that in the minds of 9 year olds, french fries are a perfectly acceptable vegetable.
• Grateful that Birthday boys want to help get everything just right and are willing to get up at 5:30 am just to make sure it all comes together.
• Grateful for the happy coincidence that the time dosing time on a bottle of advil mirrors the average length of a birthday party.

Other gratefuls come to mind too. Gratitude for the precious gift of a child, for the unconditional love and joy they bring into your life. There is gratitude for the perspective they shine on lifes difficulties. Gratitude for the laughter and the hugs and the kisses. Gratitude for the better person they require you to be.

Today E-man celebrates the party and adventure, the cake, the presents, the friends and the festivities of turning 9. While he does I'll be celebrating the gift he is to me.